


Your Chocolate Kiss

by puss_nd_boots



Series: Stargazer [5]
Category: Alice Nine
Genre: M/M, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 20:13:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1524116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puss_nd_boots/pseuds/puss_nd_boots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a band meeting is continually interrupted by deliveries of Valentine chocolate from fans, the boys do the only logical thing - have a contest to see who has the most secret admirers. And if one particular member wins, he just may get a sexy surprise from his lover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Chocolate Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Fifth installment in my very first Alice Nine series, written in 2011.

The morning light streams through the window of an apartment in Tokyo, softly illuminating the two figures intertwined in the bed.

Shou and Hiroto have woken up together every morning since their mutual love confession. (Well, there was one morning they almost didn't wake up together - after the January Nico Nico. Shou had made an unfortunate "maybe we could try spanking as a fetish" remark, and gotten himself banished to the couch. Hiroto had relented before the evening was over, though.)

This morning is no exception. They're lying asleep in Shou's bed, with Shou on his back, one arm wrapped around Hiroto, and Hiroto lying with his head pillowed on his lover's chest, an arm flung across his body. They're the very picture of romantic bliss.

That is, until the alarm goes off. Hiroto groans, the arm that had been draped over Shou reaching over and flailing for a moment before finally connecting with the snooze button. Then the arm drapes across Shou again, because that's a far more pleasant place than flailing in the air.

Shou groans as well, and turns his head to deliver a kiss to his temple. "Morning," he murmurs.

Hiroto responds with an "mmmph." No way is he moving right now. Or, for that matter, speaking. This is warm and comfortable and he likes it that way.

Shou strokes his hair. "Come on, love," he says. "We need to get out of bed. Meeting today, you know." He nearly adds, "Don't worry, you're not going to get spanked this time" - but thinks better of it. He doesn't want to get thrown out of bed. Or, for that matter, banished to the couch again.

Meeting. The words register in Hiroto's brain. Meeting equals go into the office together. Meaning he has to get out of this comfy bed with his lover. Sighing, he gets up, yawning and stretching. Okay, need to shower. WIthout Shou. Having them in the shower together is only going to make them late for the meeting, and Tora and Saga would know damn well why they were late, and Hiroto would rather not see them give each other _knowing_ looks through the whole meeting.

As if those two weren't doing the same thing beforehand.

"We're going over songs to include on the tour today, I think," Shou says, going through his closet and picking out clothes to wear. And before he leaves, he's going to need a shower, too, and a little styling gel in his hair and a touch of makeup, even though they're just going to the office. Vanity, thy name is J-rock.

"What day is it today, anyway?" Hiroto rummages around the section of Shou's drawer that's his now. Yes, he has a good deal of his clothes at Shou's place, just like Shou has clothes at his. They've been bouncing back and forth between the two residences - mostly to keep both sets of pets fed. They've yet to take the step of introducing a Pomeranian to three cats.

"Valentine's Day," Shou replies, thinking it's rather cute how not-quite-awake his lover is. "And if anyone gives you chocolate, they're out of luck now." He walks over and drapes his arms over Hiroto's shoulders. "You're taken." And that's followed with a kiss that lands between his cheek and his ear.

"I usually don't eat Valentine chocolate." Hiroto has found what he's looking for. Nice-looking for the meeting, easy escape for when they get home and take it all off again.

"You're going to get a ton of it." Shou moves away from him. "Just you wait and see." And he blows him another kiss as he heads for the bathroom.

* * *

Valentine's Day, in most of Japan, is the day of secret admirers, the day that women give chocolate to the men they want to date. It's a cute and harmless day that a lot of people look forward to.

Except at PS Company, where it's generally known as the Chocopocalypse.

You can see the tension appearing on the staff's faces a week beforehand. There's nervous watching of the door whenever a mailman brings in packages, There's clusters of people gathering in the hall, whispering, filled with anticipation for all the wrong reasons.

They know that when Valentine's Day comes, their offices will be something of a war zone, completely flooded and buried under box after box after box of chocolate for every single member of every single band. It's a sea of red heart-shaped boxes and little cellophane bags of individually foil-wrapped bonbons, piled in mountains as far as the eye can see.

There's no way in hell anyone can consume all those sweets. The bands they're intended for end up taking home one box each - if they take any at all. (Skinny boys have to stay skinny, after all). The staff takes home a little of it - anyone with somebody they want to impress that day is definitely in luck.

Most of it, though, just sits there. And sits there. Until, by the first of spring, it's sort of melted into brown lumps that kindasorta still resemble chocolate, but are more like brown rocks. And the staff finally decides they've had enough and throws them out.

On this particular Chocopacalypse morning, one PS Company band in particular has a meeting scheduled - and the staff is poised to try to foist off as much of the chocolate as possible on them.

* * *  
"What the heck is this?" Nao is watching the fifth hand truck filled with boxes in a row being wheeled into the meeting room. The talk about the tour went fine, except for the interruptions for the first few loads of chocolate. Now, they had moved on to upcoming magazine layouts - except the chocolate kept coming.

"Presents from fans," the staff member says, unloading the crates. "And there's more where that came from."

"Presents?" Tora gets up and lifts one of the crates. It's heavy.

"Chocolate," Saga says. "It's Valentine's Day, remember?" Fortunately, he and Tora have no need to make chocolates for each other - they know very well how they feel - so he has no cause to be miffed at his lover for forgetting the date.

"You spoiled the surprise," Tora says, putting the box down. "I was going to cut a hole in it so we could play What's In The Box."

"We are not playing What's In The Box," Saga retorts. "We are not playing What's In The Box EVER again."

"Shou and Hiroto seemed to like it," Tora says, taking his place at the table again. It had been his idea, of course, for the newly-minted lovebirds to stick their hands in a box of kiwi fruits during the last Nico Nico Live. He had hoped to trick them into holding hands on camera - which was, of course, precisely what had happened. Too bad the camera hadn't caught the adorable blushes.

"I would have liked anything after that game," Hiroto replies, wincing as he remembers how many times he'd gotten swatted hard on the bottom. And the second horse-man who had come out had looked suspiciously skinny-like-a-certain-bassist. Saga hasn't fessed up yet, though, but if he ever does, Hiroto's sure it will be accompanied by him asking Shou if he had kissed it to make it better. (The answer to that is yes, of course. The makeup sex after he let Shou come back to bed following his banishment to the couch had involved lots of tender treatment to his abused hindquarters.)

Seeing he's about to lose control of the situation - not that it's the first time it's happened with this particular bunch - the representative of the management attempts to call the meeting back to order when the door opens again and two more hand trucks come in. "Damn," Nao says. "This is more chocolate than even Nao-shii is capable of eating."

"This can't all be for us, can it?" Shou says. The piles of boxes are getting pretty high . . . and what's this, yet another handcart entering the room before the other two have had a chance to exit.

"They can and they are," says one handcart operator. "Every box in these crates is addressed to a member of the band."

"Individual members?" Tora gets up, goes to the boxes again and opens one up. Reaching in a hand, he pulls out three heart-shaped boxes. "For Tora . . . Hiroto . . . Saga . . ." He turns toward the band, a smile on his face. "Wonder which one of us got the most?"

Oooh, this suddely piques Shou's curiosity. He springs up from the table and rushes over to where Tora is. "Let's find out," he says, putting his hand in the box and pullingout a handful of hearts. Well, there's two addressed to him right off the bat, and the other one is for Saga.

"Gentlemen, the meeting . . ." the manager says. Forget it. It's futile. He should know that with this crowd by now, especially when their leader bounds enthusiastically up to the other two, opening another crate.

"Ooh, here's a big one for me!" Nao says, removing a huge heart covered in shocking pink velvety stuff.

"Are we sure this is a good idea?" Hiroto and Saga are the only two sitting at the table - well, and the manager, who now has his head in his hands. Fine, he'll call another meeting for day-after-tomorrow to discuss the magazine shoots. And the upper brass wonders why the conference room has to be booked for this bunch twice as frequently as any other band.

"Of course it's a good idea," Shou says, as he and Tora enthusiastically sort the boxes into piles. (Nao's sorting, too - but at a slower pace, because he's sneaking chocolates out of every box addressed to him.) "We'll find out which one of us has the most secret admirers!"

"I'm not sure I want to know that," Saga sighs reluctantly as he gets up to help with the sorting. Somehow, they're going to figure out a way to make this the basis of a Nico Nico and subject him to more on-camera indignities. Whatever. He'll just have to get back at them again by dressing sexier than everyone else at the next live.

Hiroto finally gets up as the manager storms out of the room. "What are we going to do with all this candy?" he says. Tossing it into the crowd isn't an option, they haven't got lives scheduled until later in the spring, and by then, the chocolate will be rather nasty.

"We'll figure that out later." Shou passes him a crate to sort - as three more hand trucks are brought in - and then leans over and whispers, "Depending on who wins, there just may be a special prize involved, you know."

"Prize?" Hiroto finds himself turning pink, eyes darting around to his bandmates to see if any of them heard that. There's no indication they did. Tora is still yanking velvety hearts out of boxes with gusto, Saga is still sighing and shaking his head, and Nao is now sneaking chocolates out of other people's boxes as well.

Shou gives him a wink and a million-megawatt smile, and just goes back to sorting.

* * *  
In the end, the contest is neck-and-neck. As they reach the last few boxes, it seems that Shou's and Hiroto's piles are just slightly bigger than the ones around them. The thing is, they're just as big as each other.

"Looks like we have a tie," Tora says. And wouldn't it figure it's the two lovebirds? That means there's an awful lot of young ladies for whom Shou and Hiroto's relationship would either be the dashing of a dream - or the fulfillment of one.

Saga just looks relieved. Good, this is over, they can go home and he can get Tora into the bedroom. And then discuss songwriting with him. And then get him into the bedroom again.

Except it's not over, because Tora is opening the door, going out into the hall and asking a staff member, "Are there any more boxes of chocolate for us?" A pause, then he comes back into the room with a big smile on his face. "They still have to give us the chocolates from the overseas fans! That's what will determine the winner!"

Sure enough, the door opens and two more handtrucks come in. Tora grins. Saga groans. Nao hiccups - he's eaten his fill, thanks.

They start sorting again, maybe a bit more slowly and less enthusiastically than before, but the resullts really don't change. They're at the bottom of the last box, and Shou and Hiroto are still standing slightly above everyone else, with exactly the same amount of boxes.

"All right, it comes down to this." Tora holds up the last crate."I hold in my hand the very last box. What I pull out of here may very well determine the winner, and the title of Alice Nine King of the Sweethearts!" He puts his hand inside. "Nao, give me a drum roll, please!" Nao has neither sticks nor drum to work with, so he manages to beat one out on the back of a box with his hands.

Tora sticks his hand in with a dramatic flair, in full Nico Nico MC mode now. "And the recipient of the last box of chocolates is . . ."

He pulls it out. No name. He opens it - and then shows the contents to everyone. It's not filled with chocolates - it's filled with doggy treats. And then, he sees the name of the intended recipient on the bottom.

"The last recipient," he says, "is . . . Mogu?"

There's a long pause. Everyone just looks at each other, not knowing quite what to make of this most recent development. Especially the fact that someone has declared herself the secret admirer of a dog.

Finally, Tora makes a decision. He closes the box and tosses it on Hiroto's pile. "Counts as being for Pon," he says. "Hiroto is the winner!"

Everyone cheers, and Hiroto just stands there, dumbfounded. He's the winner? He has the most secret admirers? Really? And then, Shou is giving him a wink again, sendng him a message . . . he's got a prize coming his way. Now Hiroto's wondering if Shou cheated, if he put some boxes with his own name in Hiroto's pile, just so his lover would win and claim the "prize."

Shou isn't telling. Hiroto was going to get the prize one way or another, of course. This just created an opening to do it.

* * *  
It's several hours later when they finally enter Shou's apartment, each carrying up an armful of boxes of chocolate. The rest are still in Hiroto's car, filling the trunk, the back seat, and the floor of the front. Shou rode home with boxes piled eye-level on his lap. They had talked a little about what to do with the chocolate over dinner at the ramen place, but decided it was something to deal with later. They have other prorities at the moment.

Like the fact that as soon as the door is closed behind them and the chocolate is on the floor, Shou is pushing Hiroto against the wall, kissing him with fierce enthusiasm. Hiroto kisses back, tasting soy milk and ramen and, yes, chocolate. They ate a few pieces in the car on the way home. He wraps his arms around Shou, pulling him closer, letting his tongue probe his mouth.

When the kiss breaks, Shou murmurs, kissing along Hiroto's neck, "You're eager to find out what your prize is, aren't you?" He starts to undo his shirt buttons, and Hiroto reaches for his, and then they just break apart, shedding clothing piece by piece as they head for the bedroom. They know they're going to end up there anyway.

They're both naked by the time they reach the bed, which is convenient, since they immediately wrap their arms around each other and tumble to the mattress, kissing hungrily again, tongues reaching for each other right away. Shou reaches down and takes Hiroto's nipple in his finger, very gently squeezing as they kiss and stroke and lick, and Hiroto lets out a moan in his throat.

Finally, Shou pulls away, rolls over and reaches into the nighttable drawer. "Okay, it's prize time," he says. “You're going to find out what it is now. Close your eyes.”

Hiroto obeys, shutting his eyes tight and leaning back on the pillows. He's not going to speculate on what Shou has planned. He trusts him absolutely, after all. Well, almost absolutely.

There's the sound of the drawer being closed, and then, Shou's tongue suddenly sliding up his neck. Hiroto yelps and arches toward him – that drives him crazy, and Shou knows it. As if to emphasize just how well he knows it, he lingers on that spot, licking another trail, slowly, from the top of his neck to his throat, where he pauses to nibble – at which point Hiroto lets out a moan, a long and delicious sound.

And then, there's the sound of . . . buzzing? More gentle nibbling on his neck – Shou is very careful not to leave marks anywhere the cameras would pick up – and there's a sudden shockwave of pleasure at Hiroto's nipple as something _vibrating_ touches it, sending tingles shooting through his body. “Aaaahh!” he cries. “Shou . . . what . . .”

“Sssh.” Shou raises his head. “Just relax and enjoy it.” The vibrating thing caresses the nipple some more, rubbing back and forth over the bud, and Hiroto lets out a moan loud enough to startle the cats – but they know better by now than to come into the bedroom when noises like that are coming from it. (Especially when their master's companion is the little person who smells of dog.)

“What – what is that?” he cries, lifting his head just long enough to see Shou transfer his hand to the other side of his chest – and the thing mounted on the tip of his right forefinger. It looks almost like a medical instrument – but it definitely is not.

“It's called a fingertip vibrator,” Shou says, touching it to the other nipple, then lowering his head to kiss the overly-sensitive bud he'd just been pleasuring, making Hiroto jump and yelp again. “They're usually designed for women, but I think they have uses for men, too.” A lick to the nipple, and the vibrations shooting through its twin again, and Hiroto lets out a full-throated cry, reaching out with one hand and grabbing at the bedcovers, crumpling the fabric.

“You like it?” he says. “You haven't seen the best thing it can do yet.” He sits up, not switching off the little vibrator just yet, and shifts so he's kneeling between Hiroto's legs. Hiroto braces himself. Oh, GOD – if it felt that good on his nipple, what was it going to feel like on . . .

He gets his answer rapidly. There's a brief sensation of stroking, of slickness, as Shou quickly coats his erection with lube – of the flavored variety. He has plans for later, but for now, he's just making Hiroto slick, so he can . . .

There's a sudden sharp sensation at the tip of his cock, and Hiroto is now officially lost in pleasure, completely gone, writhing against the covers. The vibration circles the head, sliding back and forth over the opening on top (bringing about a cry) and then moving downward, rubbing briefly over the sensitive area at the base of the head – just briefly, because from the cry Hiroto lets out as he arches off the bed, doing that for any length of time would make him come for sure, and Shou isn't ready for that to happen yet.

The vibrations move slowly down the shaft, moving here and there, every brush of it against his skin bringing forth a fresh torrent of moans. Hiroto has never felt anything like this before in his life. The fact that the pleasure is so pinpointed makes it that much more intense – and Shou knows exactly which spots to pinpoint.

Like, for instance, the base of his cock, where the vibrator is alighting now, causing Hiroto to let out a loud “Aaaaah!” as he arches off the bed again, his cock leaking drops of precome . . . which doesn't get very far, because Shou leans over, taking the head into his mouth and tonguing it.

Hiroto nearly screams. There's a slick tongue lapping at him, and a mad vibrating at the base of his cock, and he's writhing like a snake, panting raggedly, skin flushed and sweaty. It's an agony of ecstasy – which gets even more intense as the mouth moves down further on him.

“Shou!” he cries. “I'm close, I'm so close . . .”

His lover's answer to that is to slide down further, fully sucking now, and Hiroto finally surrenders to the pleasure, shouting his lover's name as the ecstasy bursts inside him in fiery waves. His come flows into Shou's mouth, and Shou just swallows, keeping the sucking and vibrating up until Hiroto finally collapses, panting and whimpering.

Shou turns off the vibrator, and moves up to kiss Hiroto's lips, gently. Hiroto experiences the now-familiar taste of himself, and he purrs softly. His hand moves against Shou's, as if to grasp it . . .

But instead, he grabs the fingertip vibrator and slides it off. The prize is his now. He can give back as good as he got.

He quickly flips Shou over onto his back as they kiss, sliding the tiny toy onto his right forefinger – where it feels not unlike some finger-mounted guitar picks he's used. It doesn't take him long to find the little button that turns it on.

Hiroto is going to cut right to the chase. He licks his way down Shou's neck as he brings his hand down, finding the little bottle of lube Shou had used for him. He sits up just long enough to pour it into his hand, then lowers his head again, right to Shou's nipple, which he strokes lightly with his tongue as his fingers wrap around his lover's erection, slicking it.

Now it's Shou's turn to start panting, and moaning, and wriggling a bit beneath his lover. “I didn't win the contest, you know,” he said.

“You almost did.” And he brings his finger to his hardness. “That earns a reward, too.” He begins one long stroke with the vibrator, moving from the base to the tip, then down again, as his head lowers to the nipple again. Wrapping his lips over the bud, he starts to suck, flicking his tongue lightly over it.

Shou moans as Hiroto's finger circles the head, trying to seek out the most sensitive spots like Shou did with him – and to that end, he lingers at the opening on top, which brings about a long, low groan of his name.

“Oh, my God, Hiroto, that's so good.” And a louder moan as Hiroto moves the finger back and forth over the tip, stroking and stroking it with vibrations. For Shou, this is an entirely new thing. He's used this on himself before – but nobody else has ever used it on him. He can see now why it always drives people crazy.

Hiroto keeps sliding downward as he lifts his head from the nipple and shifts his whole body downward, grabbing the lube again – and this time, he pours it lower, over his lover's balls, letting it run down below that. Shou gives a little jump at the sensation. “Hiroto, what . . .”

And then, the vibrating finger reaches the base of his cock, and lingers there a moment, making Shou let out another groan – then keeps moving downward. He lets out a loud cry of “oh!” as he starts to feel the vibrations over his balls, a sudden, sharp, intense pleasure – almost too intense.

Hiroto is getting exactly the response he wants. Shou is writhing on the bed the way he had done, and, oh my God, does he look beautiful – a rosy flush spreading all over him, the nipples standing up hard from his chest, his eyes closed and lips parted. He looks hungry and needy and just plain hot.

And now, Hiroto's ultimate plan. He moves the finger lower still, until it's pressing against the flesh between Shou's balls and his entrance – which sends the vibrations shooting through to his prostate. Shou suddenly arches off the bed, eyes flying open wide in surprise, a loud cry filling the air. “Hiroto! Hiroto, what is . . .”

The finger moves, caressing the spot, sending more vibrations shooting to the sensitive organ within, and now, Shou can only let out long moans – especially when Hiroto's mouth envelops the head of his cock, tonguing the opening, then starting to suck.

It's Shou's turn to be completely enveloped in an agony of ecstasy now, to writhe on the sheets and moan, skin covered with a light sheen of sweat as the sharpness of the vibrations and the softness of the mouth on him combine to drive him extremely mad, in the nicest possible way. His whole body is tensed tighter than a bowstring, trembling with every flick of Hiroto's tongue, every press of the little device.

“Oh, my God, oh, my God, Hiroto, I'm going to . . .”

Hiroto responds by taking Shou in as deep as he can and sucking hard, and that sets Shou off at last, yelling his lover's name loudly as he comes so hard he nearly sees stars, Hiroto staying with him until the last minute, swallowing his essence to the final drop.

The little toy is finally turned off and dropped on the nighttable, and the two men embrace, kissing gently. “So good,” Shou murmurs between kisses, still breathless, voice still husky.

“I love you,” Hiroto says, as he snuggles against Shou in his favorite post-sex sleeping position, with his head on his chest. “And if that's what you get for winning the chocolate contest . . .”

"I love you, too. I love you so, so much . . ." Shou murmurs, wrapping his arms around Hiroto and holding him close. He couldn't say it for so long that now, he says it whenever he gets an opportunity. “The prize is good all year, you know. Whenever you want it.” And he has other toys in his arsenal that they can try out, too – but that's for another time. Right now, they're sated, sleepy, warm and cozy.

“Mmm.” Hiroto is already starting to drift off. Next time? He'll think about that later. He just wants to go to sleep snuggled against Shou for now – the perfect ending to what had turned out to be a memorable Valentine's Day.

They'll figure out what to do with all that chocolate later, too – though there are interesting possibilities in the idea of melting it down and licking it off each other's bodies . . .


End file.
